Swallowed by the Deep
by KoRn49
Summary: "There was only a small space filler to place in that gaping hole, and that was Castiel's trench coat." A head canon revolving around the trench coat scene in 7x02, but this time, Castiel is dead for good. This story revolves around Dean's feelings towards the loss,and how he remembers his relationship with Castiel- his angel. !Major spoiler alerts for seasons 4-7!


**Swallowed by the Deep**

Since Castiel was gone- swallowed by the deep- Dean did very little of himself. It was as if the moment he was completely submerged, Dean drowned as well, being placed into cruise control, living off pure instinct. He didn't feel like himself, he didn't look like himself, and he sure didn't act like himself. Everyone around him noticed it- the way he didn't seem to hunt for a purpose anymore, now simply killing demons because that's what is expected of him, and how he bottled up all of his emotions, isolating himself as much as possible. Sam and Bobby assumed it was a form of shock brought on by not only losing one of his best friends, but by the stress of the leviathan issue at hand. Little did they know his sadness was _souly _because Castiel was gone. Though the hardest part for Dean wasn't _accepting _he was gone, but _coping _with the loss, with the emptiness, with that missing piece.

There was only a small space filler to place in that gaping hole, and that was Castiel's trench coat. It seemed the moment Dean bent down, hand seeking the tan coat submerged and tainted, he got lost- leaving what was left of Dean Winchester behind in that lake along with his angel Castiel, and replaced it with a bundle of fabric. But he wasn't simply going to let it sit there- for it smelled like Castiel, felt like Castiel, and looked like Castiel. It was basically part of Castiel.

That's why he kept it.

The trench coat was that little connection, that little safety that helped comfort him when he felt alone and helpless. It helped him cope with his loss, helped him feel like Castiel was still with him, still sharing that bond that was once so profound. He kept it for many reasons though, more than he could name, more than everyone around him knew, more than he wanted everyone around him to know. Sam believed he was keeping it in honor of a good friend he once had. Bobby believed he was keeping it so he would never forget Castiel. These thoughts were all quite true, however, it went much deeper than that.

**The scent brought back memories. **

Dean wasn't sleeping. He couldn't sleep, for every night he was jostled awake from cold sweats and hyperventilation- a result of the reluctant and reoccurring nightmare of _that_ day. That day his angel grew possessed by the leviathan, then sank into the deep slowly, never to emerge again. Once awoken, he would seek comfort from the trench coat, tangling his fingers into the lapels, wrapping it in his arms, pressing it to his chest and face. Smelling the coat, he would imagine Castiel was there in his arms, peaceful, just like the old days, just like how things were before Castiel made that damned collaboration with Crowley.

_"I thought angel's didn't need sleep," Dean questioned as he nestled into the motel bed, Castiel still standing, hovering above where he now lay._

_"Affirmative," Castiel started, but continued with a small and bashful tone, "But I shall stay, and assure you get a well rested sleep." Dean smirked up at the angel, pulled the sheets down in front of him, and begin patting the bed with his hand. _

_"Suuure, if that's what you angels call it," Dean began as Castiel now sat down at the edge of the bed and started to carefully remove his shoes, one at a time. "Here us humans call it spooning."_

_"Spooning? As in silverware?" Castiel set his shoes down straight and tidy next to Dean's, which were kicked off and plopped down in a messy heap- a ball of tangled laces, one sitting upside down. He turned around to face Dean, tilting his head to the left in a curious motion._

_Dean chuckled, reached out, and grabbed Castiel's right shoulder in a motion that was all too familiar. "Man, quit your naive-ness and get your holy ass down here." _

_He pulled Castiel's shoulder down to the mattress at once, and Castiel then willingly dragged his legs up and under the covers, which Dean soon pulled to both of their necks. Castiel closed his eyes, cheeks tugging the corners of his lips up and into a wide grin as Dean pressed his body up against his in a way that almost fit perfectly, making them slot together like two puzzle pieces. Dean slipped both his arms under Castiel's, and pressed his left hand tightly to the angel's chest where he could feel his heart hammering, and the other he intertwined with one of Castiel's free hands. Castiel willingly parted his knees a tad as Dean slid one of his legs between, knotting their limbs together, making them forget who's leg was who's- not that they cared. Last but not least, Dean nestled his face into the slope of Castiel's neck, nose just above the collar of his trench coat, where it was to remain the rest of the night. _

_"G'night Cas," Dean whispered sleepily, as Castiel gave a responding squeeze to his hand. Times like these were some of Dean's most vulnerable moments, moments he didn't dare speak to anyone about, moments he was to pretend didn't happen, moments only Castiel knew about. But despite Dean acting all rock-hard, Mr.I-have-no-emotions during the day and around people, Castiel still knew Dean meant the things he did, and the things he would tell him in these vulnerable moments. _

_Yeah sure, angels didn't need sleep, but Castiel still liked to rest, and when he was here with Dean, hands tangled up in his trench coat and limbs, he was the most at rest he could ever be. Of course he had his own duties he needed to fulfill. Before he was so close to Dean, when he first came to earth, he would return to heaven at night while the Winchesters slept, and completed work of his own. Sure, heaven was important, and he would get to it eventually, but at night, he much rather rest and be held by Dean. Heaven could wait a couple more hours. Besides, this moment had to be the closest thing to heaven on earth- Feeling the rising and falling of Dean's chest, hearing Dean's breath brushing through his hair where his nose was nuzzled, and noticing the way Dean's heart beat slowed more and more as he slowly slipped into a deep sleep. These were all the things Castiel looked forward to throughout the whole day. _

_But Dean found the most comfort in holding Castiel throughout the night. Sure it was borderline chick-flick material, gay, and fruity, but it brought him comfort. Just knowing Castiel, Cas, his angel, was there in his arms, there awake by him the entire night, made him feel safe. He no longer slept with a knife or gun under his pillow, for he knew if anything were to come after him, Castiel would either destroy it within seconds, or teleport them out of there before it got too close. Most of all, he liked smelling Castiel's aroma all night; the smell of pure human skin- no sweat, no grime, no soap or perfumes- just skin. They would remain like that until the sun rose, until they unwillingly separated from one another to wake up and start their days. Even after parting their separate ways, Dean would smell Castiel on him for a good hour after waking up, feeling like he was with him that entire time._

Castiel's smell. Dean liked that smell, he never wanted to lose it. That's why now that his bed was empty- his front side cold and lacking- he pressed the wrinkled and stained coat to his nose, relishing the remainder of Castiel's scent that lingered in the fibers. He held the trench coat in his arms throughout the whole night in the way he used to hold Castiel. It kept the nightmares away, it kept the fear away, it kept the paranoia away, and most of all, it kept the _loneliness_ and _lacking_ away.

**The touch held experiences. **

As Dean paced around the motel room , eager and antsy, he began to search for the trench coat. When he was alone, just like he was at the moment, he would usually call Castiel. They would be together, love each other, and do everything they couldn't when others were around. But now, there was no one there to do that with. No one to cuddle with, no one to pull in for a kiss, no one to shed layers upon layers of clothing from on the motel bed. All he had was the coat, and as his fingers ran across it, nerves picking up the texture. It reminded him of their first time- how it all began.

_"Sam, I'm staaarving," Dean whined as he and his brother barely woke up, him still engulfed by the large comforter. _

_"Really Dean? Not too long ago we learned about the inevitable apocalypse for crying out loud, we need to start thinking up what to do... and all you can think of is food?" Sam raked a hand through his long brown hair, clearing his throat noisily as he rubbed sleep from his eyes._

_"Hey, don't blame me, my belly is empty." Dean plopped his head back on the pillow, not wanting to wake up._

_"Fine, I'll go out and get us something to eat while you stay here and call Bobby." Sam spoke as he stood up, legs still weak and tired. "We really need to go over there today and discuss what we are going to do." Sam now fumbled through his bag for a pair of jeans and the impala keys in Dean's._

_Dean agreed, and remained in bed lazily as Sam fumbled out the door, still half groggy from sleep. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and begin to slide out of the covers, when there was a fluster, a flutter, and in a blink of the eye, Castiel was there. Dean jumped, nearly falling out of the bed face first._

_"Dammit Cas," He growled, holding out an arm for balance. "Don't do that! Give a warning at least before you poof up in here all willy-nilly."_

_"My apologies." Castiel spoke monotone, his posture as pin-straight as a needle, eyes fixated on Dean's. He didn't budge, simply lingering in the room, staring._

_"Uh.. So why are you here? Big boss guy got a message for me?" Dean was now making his way towards a small mini fridge and pulled out a beer bottle. _

_"No," Castiel simply said, not elaborating, not explaining himself._

_"...Then what is it? Got some word on the apocalypse?" Dean stared at him curiously, green eyes meeting Castiel's blue._

_"No," Castiel repeated once more, eyes now staring down at his feet, "I'm.. I'm what you humans would call.. bored, or un-amused." Dean crinkled his eyebrows together and opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened once more to finally talk._

_"Bored?" He took two steps closer, looking confused. "You guys get bored? I'm sure there's a shit tone of stuff to do as an angel." _

_"Yes, as an angel there is," Castiel spoke, stepping closer to Dean as well, getting into his personal space as always before continuing, "But here on earth, I'm useless. Up in heaven it is rather time consuming sorting out the souls, choosing where they go, but here on earth it seems there is nothing to do for someone like me."_

_"Nothin' to do huh.. Well, there are plenty human activities to do that are probably just as time consuming as sorting souls, or whatever the hell." Castiel stared at Dean curiously as he spoke, squinting his blue eyes._

_"You see, that is why I'm here. What do you, a human, usually do to amuse yourself Dean?" Castiel questioned._

_"Well," Dean began, looking outside and taking a swig of his beer, "You could go for a run, you could watch a movie, you could drive, you could go to a strip club, you could go get laid, you could go to a park, you could jerk off, you could go shopping, you could go somewhere to eat, you could go fishing," and Dean just went on, naming all the things he liked to do in his spare time. But Castiel had stopped listening, being hypnotized by the Television. _

_"What's this?" He asked as he crept towards it. Dean made an 'are-you-serious' face._

_"Do you seriously not know what a TV is?" Dean questioned as he clenched his brows together. Castiel bashfully looked to the floor, as if apologetic. "Oh man, you gotta watch some. Best time passer ever."_

_So there they now sat at the foot of Dean's motel bed; Castiel's legs hanging over the edge, posture as straight as ever, eyes focused on the moving pictures. Dean, still in his boxers and white muscle shirt from the night, legs crossed up on top the bed, hands wrapped around a beer bottle's neck. They were both comfortable as they lounged and watched Family Guy together, despite Dean occasionally having to explain references to Castiel. _

_Even once Sam returned with food, the two continued to watch movies and cheesy shows, just laughing as they made small side conversations during commercials... and bonded. That was the first day Dean had heard Castiel laugh, seen his eyes so bright and blue, and that was also the first day that Dean saw his posture relax and unwind a tad. Sam insisted they get to work, but Dean blew him off, and called the day a 'free day', just so he could finish showing Castiel all the Star Wars movies. He could tell Castiel was enjoying himself, and once night time came, right before Castiel left, Dean saw a look in his eyes that he had never seen before. He pondered that look the entire night, right before sleeping and seeing it in his dreams yet again. _

_The next day though, their last day in that motel room, Castiel returned once more._

_Dean was in the restroom, washing off some of the grime from his leather jacket that had accumulated from their latest hunt. He looked up, only to be startled by Castiel being uncomfortably close behind him._

_"God, don't do that!" He complained, slamming down a fist, catching his breath from the shock._

_"Again, I apologize." Castiel replied, inching forward a tad bit more. Dean turned around, face now only inches from Castiel's. He could feel the angel's breath on his nose, body heat vaguely illuminating from his skin. But what struck him the most was that Castiel had that exact same look in his eyes that he had left with last night. The look that Dean thought was almost a look bearing some form of desire._

_"Cas..." Dean looked down a tad, "Remember what we talked about? Personal space?" Castiel took a step or two back, still quite too close for comfort._

_"My apologies." Castiel restated as he began his next point, "I am bored again.."_

_"Hmm," Dean put his hand to his chin, "And you want me to do something about it? Amuse you again?" Castiel shook his head, eyes now darting to the floor. _

_"Cas, I told you many things you could do, I gave you ideas, so why don't you go amuse yoursel-" But then he was cut off. He was cut off by the last thing he would have expected- Castiel's lips. Something he had never thought would happen. Something he had only had a couple dreams, fantasies, about. Something that raised all the feelings that he buried deep down into the back of his brain and pretend didn't exist. He pretended because they confused the fuck out of him. But now, here he was, lip-locked with an angel, and before he knew it, he was pushing Castiel off of him, scrambling backwards, slowly loosing balance. _

_"Cas, what the fuck?" Dean spat as he gained stability with the help of the wall. A word choice that he immediately regretted, for now he was standing before an extremely sheepish, embarrassed, regret-filled Castiel._

_"Dean..." Castiel stepped back, with a look as if he now knew his boundaries, "I'm sorry... I don't know what emotion that was that periodically washed over me, but whatever it may have been, it was telling me to do that..." He looked back up to Dean, down to the floor, and now to his hands. Dean could tell Castiel was about to teleport out of this situation, so without thinking, he immediately reached out and grabbed the angle's arm, tugging as if for him not to leave._

_"Cas-" But again, Dean was cut off by Castiel, not by his lips this time though, just his words, which held sadness._

_"Dean, I just wanted that feeling again," Castiel mumbled quietly as he looked to the tiles below him, and Dean just looked at the angel questioningly. "..That feeling I got yesterday when we spent the whole day together, that feeling of acceptance and being wanted. I've never felt that before, not as an angel, not as a human. Not until yesterday, that is." _

_Dean could tell Castiel was embarrassed, but honestly, Dean had felt that same 'thing' yesterday as well, whatever that thing was. To Castiel, it was acceptance, but to Dean, it was something more. Something he wasn't quite sure of though, and failed to put his finger on. All he wanted was to tell Castiel that he felt this too, but instead, pulled the angel close to him once more, closing that gap Castiel had created, now pressing their lips together yet again. _

_Castiel's eyes were wide and shocked, and he made an almost strangled sound, for the act caught him by surprise. Eventually though, he relaxed, and kissed Dean back. Dean's hand was still tight around Castiel's arm, and as he held, his fingers memorized the feeling of the tanned fibers of the trench coat beneath. _

_After that day, whenever Dean was alone, he would call down Castiel, and pull him in by his trench coat. His fingers always seemed to seeked out the feeling of the material when he was lonely or down, and the touch of it alone almost was enough for him. But with the coat came more- Castiel's warmth, his body, his hands, his words, his lips. And Dean could never ask for more from anyone. _

But now, after Castiel had sunken into the deep, there was none of that. None of that connection or chemistry that they once shared. When he was alone like this, one hundred percent alone, he felt the gut wrenching emotion even stronger, and wanted nothing more than to call Castiel down and pull him close. Pull him in for a kiss by his trench coat. But he couldn't, so he did the next best thing. He sat down, pulled the tanned material close, and closed his eyes, pacing his breaths. The feeling of the fibers was the only thing that held in the sobs he wanted to scream out from his lungs.

**It served as a reminder. **

Many days, Dean would find himself in a bad situation. In a situation where he and his younger brother were being hunted down, and no moment of their days were safe until whatever it was had been killed. Before he lost Castiel, he had reassurance at times like this. He knew that if he and Sam were to be attacked when they least expected it, Castiel would come down and save them. But now, he had none of that peace of mind. He felt like the moment Castiel died, all his comfort went with him.

When something was after him and Sam, he would place the trench coat in the trunk of the Impala, and take it along with them on their drives. This gave him a small sliver of comfort as they drove down the long, never ending, winding roads because it was Castiel's coat. It looked like the angel, and made Dean feel almost like he was there with them. Feeling it 'watching over him' reminded him of what his mother used to always tell him. "Angels are watching over you". Once Dean met Castiel who did in fact watch over him, he thought it was purely a coincidence that Mary would tell him this. But little did Dean know, she would say this because she knew Castiel was there, knew that Dean was safe with him watching. Knew Dean was Castiel's.

_The year was 1973, and Castiel had just witnessed Dean save his younger mother and father. Castiel knew it was about time to warp Dean back to his original time frame, but first, he had something important to do- the main reason he brought Dean back here._

_For a while now, even before Dean was sent to hell, Castiel had been aware of him- been watching him. God would tell Castiel that he had big plans for Dean, and that got the angel curious. He first noted Dean to being a slightly above average in skill hunter, but eventually started seeing him for who he really was. He began to grow concerned for him, wanting to fly down and help when he could, but God would not allow it. When he heard about Dean's deal- him selling his soul in order for Sam to come back- he immediately became more concerned for Dean than ever before. Due to his level of caring, God put him in charge of raising Dean from perdition, and Castiel accepted willingly._

_But today, he brought Dean back to this era to make Dean known to his mother and father, and to make himself known to them. _

_As Dean drove away, almost praying to go home, Castiel made his way to Mary and John who still sat in the middle of the street in shock. He introduced himself, and explained the recent events that happened with Dean. His mother and father were shocked, and wanted to do anything to protect their children, anything to help better Dean._

_"Well there is one thing," Began Castiel, eyes meeting Mary's gaze firmly, then shifting to John's. "If I may have both of your permissions for your son's soul, or as you humans may say, his hand, I promise I can keep him safe."_

_Both of their faces grew shocked. Not disapproving, not revolted, just shocked._

_"I promise you both, that if you do allow me your son," Castiel now stood taller and more straight as he finished, "I will always watch over him. I will always protect him. I will put myself before him at all costs. And most of all, I will love him when no others will."_

_They both smiled to each other, then up at the angel, tears now streaming down Mary's face as she gladly accepted, promising Dean to Castiel. She thought the love that Castiel held for Dean was beautiful and pure, and she trusted Castiel, she knew he would keep Dean safe._

_"John," Castiel begin as he looked to the man who's arms were wrapped around Mary, "I may be in a male vessel, I may be a divine entity that isn't human, and I may be over 2000 years older than your son, but I am not exaggerating when I say I love your son with all that I can, and I seek your approval in him being mine."_

_Before John could answer, Castiel looked at them both once more, finally adding on, "I'm just trying to be courteous. During my time on earth, I learned that humans seek approval from the parents of the one they wish to be with before claiming them. But I would like to ask ahead of time, in order to assure Dean's safety."_

_John's eyes shimmered, and he smiled when he spoke, "Yes, just promise me to always watch over my boy." And Castiel nodded in approval, stepped away from the two with a smile, and in a flash, both him and Dean had returned to the motel room, Dean still in a flustered panic._

_"...I couldn't stop any of it." Dean huffed in disappointment, "She still made the deal. She still died, didn't she?" Dean looked up to Castiel, waiting for his reassurance. _

_"Don't be too hard on yourself..." Castiel began, still refusing to make eye contact with Dean, "You couldn't have stopped it." Dean now stood and took a step closer to the angel, eyes riddled with confusion._

_"W-what?" Was all he managed to ask._

_"Destiny Cannot be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination." Castiel replied, feeling slightly remorseful for having to put Dean through that._

_"Then why'd you send me back?" Dean questioned, slightly angry now. Before Castiel could reply, he had to stop for a moment and think of what to say. He didn't want to tell Dean the real reason- that he sent him back in order for his mom and dad to meet him, to grow feelings for him, to know he was their son, and to know what would happen to him. The reason that he wanted them to know in order for him to ask for permission to claim Dean, to share this bond with their son. But he would never tell Dean that, not yet at least._

_"For the truth." Was all Castiel could think up quickly, "Now you know everything we know." _

Dean remembered his mom telling him bed time stories- not about princes and princesses, but about angels and humans. When he was scared at night, she would reassure him that angels were watching over him, and it was true. At times, Dean suspected that Castiel had done this, for when they would lay together, hold each other, simply be around each other, there was something there that Dean felt. What he felt seemed like it had been there his whole life, like a love he felt long before meeting Castiel. Castiel never told him if he did this or not, but Dean had his suspicions, and was thankful if Castiel really did.

So now he sat in the impala, fear pumping through his veins as he remembered this. He began wondering if these days- days since the moment that Castiel was swallowed by the deep- were the first days of his life where he was legitimately alone, not being watched over by his angel. This thought scared him more than anything. As he drove, he clenched his fists around the wheel as tight as he could until his knuckles whitened.

"Dean, is everything okay?" Sam asked with worry filling his tone, noticing how distressed his brother was. But Dean didn't say a word. He knew if he spoke, he would begin to cry out all the tears he had been bottling inside him. Because now, realization just struck him square in the face, that Castiel was completely gone.

**Last but not least, it brought Dean closure.**

Despite the trench coat bringing him so much comfort and reassurance, it also caused Dean to feel a form of denial, fooling his brain that Castiel wasn't completely gone. Holding the coat at night, he would trick his brain and senses into believing that Castiel was there during his sleep. Running his fingers down the wrinkles and seams when alone fooled his nerves and broken heart that Castiel was still there to call down whenever he needed his company. Keeping the tanned fabric in the impala's trunk helped to fool his sub conscious that Castiel was still nearby, watching over him like the finer days, putting his fears at ease. But Dean came to the realization that by fooling himself like this, tricking his emotions, he was only making matters worse. He was only taking that problem, that loneliness, that emptiness, and shoving it to the back burner to fester and grow into something worse.

Sitting in his motel bed, Sam fast asleep to his left, Dean held the coat. Lifting it up to his nose, he inhaled, realizing Castiel's smell was slowly fading, and that he smelt next to nothing of the angel now. Touching the fabric, he felt how dry it had grown, how much it lacked that _Castiel _feeling it once held onto.

So now he stood up, slipping on his shoes and pulling the cold leather of his jacket over his shoulders. He clenched the trench coat in his arms as he snuck out the motel door, trying not to wake Sam. Once out, Dean made a dash for the impala, never once setting down the coat as he drove, fingers shaking around it slightly.

The engine roared to a stop as Dean stepped out from the door, his heart almost stopping along with the car as he gazed up to the large barn stationed in front of him. Biting his lip, clenching the coat only that much tighter, he kept the sobs back that now wanted to burst out at the sight he was seeing. Pushing the door open with one hand, he observed everything around him. The hay scattered piecemeal on the floor, along with all the red and black symbols spray painted sloppily only almost every inch of the wooded walls by Bobby. Dean felt his head grow light as took it all in, took in the fact that this is where he met Castiel, where it all started.

Without saying a word, he began to clear away some of the hay from the center of the barn floor. There was now a clearing in the center, and Dean approached it, crouching in the center as he pressed the trench coat down onto the wood.

"Don't ever change," Dean choked out, and he felt the tears now climbing up his throat. His eyes grew prickly as if sand had just blown into them, and he felt his face grow hot and red. His throat tightened as his fingers took in the feeling of the material for the last time. He felt his stomach drop as his eyes raked over the folds and wrinkles, knowing he will never see it again, never see Castiel again. He now stood up, leaving the coat on the floor as he begin to fish through his pocket. In what seemed to be one single motion, Dean pulled out his zippo lighter, flicked out the flame, and dropped it to the twisted pile of tan laying before him.

Dean wanted to burn Castiel's trench coat- giving him a true hunter's funeral. Despite Castiel being an angel and having his own duties, Dean always felt that his angel was a hunter at heart, for he rebelled for him and fought alongside him for so long. As the flames slowly swallowed the coat, memories flashed back right before Dean's eyes. He remembered how Castiel's eyes would light up when he would see Dean, and the way his lips would curl into a smile. He remembered how it always sent a surge through his body when Castiel touched the hand print he had left on his arm. He recalled how broken he made Castiel when they argued over his decision to find purgatory with Crowley, and when he told Castiel that he didn't forgive him. He remembered how every night after that fight they had in the ring of fire, Castiel would stand by Dean's bed- not holding him like he normally would, for he knew Dean was mad, and would simply stand over him, protecting him like he promised. He remembered how one night, he tried to get Castiel to leave him alone, but the angel simply said "Dean, I know you are upset with me, and even though you may not want me anymore, I still care enough to ensure your safety". He remembered how those were some of the last words told to him by Castiel before the Leviathan incident, and for that, he felt his heart breaking. One last memory and Dean couldn't take it anymore.

Now stepping backwards, watching smoke bellow up from the flames coating the fabric, Dean felt it coming. Felt what he had been holding back all this time. He felt all the tears, all the sobs he had been bottling in now scratching at his eyes to come out. Before he knew it, long streaks of warm tears were rolling down his cheeks, leaving behind shiny snail trails. His eyes reddening as his nose sniffling, Dean finally accepted it- Castiel, his angel, his Cas, was gone, completely swallowed by the deep.

Dean began to turn around, slowly making his way to the impala as the barn now began to fill with smoke. His legs wobbled, unsteady, the whole drive home and the tears didn't seem to want to stop. Once he reached the motel, he entered his room to find Sam seated on a chair, face relieved to see Dean had returned safe.

"Dean, where were you, I've been worried sick!" Sam exclaimed as he jumped to his feet, about to approach his brother when he noticed the streaks running down Dean's cheeks, and the redness of his eyes and nose. Sam drew back, saying nothing but giving Dean a worried look.

"It was nothing Sammy," Dean mumbled in a low voice, raspy from all the crying, "Just saying goodbye."

And at that, Sam smelled the linger of old smoke on Dean's leather jacket, knowing just what he had done. Dean was now laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, shoes and jacket still on his person. He didn't seem to care. All he could think of was Castiel- his thoughts still plagued with the memory of Castiel being swallowed by the deep, never to emerge again. Sam sat down on the bed next to Dean, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. His shoulder where Castiel's hand print still remained.

"Don't worry just, remember what mom used to say. Angels will always be watching over you Dean, _no matter what_."


End file.
